


shark in the water

by honeysigh



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gay Chicken, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Out, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysigh/pseuds/honeysigh
Summary: Surprisingly enough, Jongho was the one to suggest playing the game, after watching Seonghwa nearly snap his neck trying to pull away from Wooyoung's pursed lips. Of course, he'd done it with the assumption thathewouldn't be participating in such nonsense, only because—“I'm themaknae!” He protests, hands up and palms facing upwards. “Aren't I supposed to be young and innocent?”“Absolutely not,” they all say in unison, and Jongho drops his face into his hands.(Or, ATEEZ play chicken. It goes about as well as you'd expect.)
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Everyone/Everyone
Comments: 9
Kudos: 530





	shark in the water

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really know what spurred this fic on, save for the fact that most of my wips are on the longer side and i just wanted to write them all being silly with each other... which is basically canon behavior. enjoy! 
> 
> as the tags point out, there's general sexual humor & implied sexual content in that it gets pretty frisky, but nothing goes past making out & getting touchy.

For all Wooyoung likes to joke about how inexperienced San seems after you get to know him, the boy has an unfairly nice mouth, and fortunately for _him_ , he knows how to use it well. Current situation: he’s got Wooyoung pressed up against the cold metal of the refrigerator in their dorm, one hand clamped around his waist and the other rubbing soothing circles into the nape of his neck, and Wooyoung swears their fans were right when they called San the _HALA HALA demon_ because there is _no_ possible way anyone should be this good with their teeth on someone’s neck.

He ignores Wooyoung’s quiet whines to lay off at least a little because it kind-of sort-of fucking hurts after a while and continues nipping at the jut of his collarbone, snickering when Wooyoung tosses his head back and smacks it against the fridge door. 

“Shut the hell up,” Wooyoung hisses, yanking on San’s dark hair and forcing him to pull away in retaliation, and San squeaks cutely. _Way_ too cutely to be considered legal when just moments ago he’d been trying to fucking maul him and his poor neck, but Wooyoung digresses.

“Ow!” San yelps with a pout, pinching the back of Wooyoung’s neck when he finally lets go. “What, are you asking to _stop?_ ”

“Who said that?” Wooyoung grumbles. San raises an eyebrow, smirking, and Wooyoung reaches down to slide a hand under and up his shirt, smoothing it over his back. San, predictably enough, shivers violently at the contact and leans into him. “Like hell I’d give up. I’m not a quitter.”

“Then stop being a bitch and let me continue,” San mutters, nuzzling into Wooyoung’s neck once more and pinning him completely to the fridge. 

San’s taller than him, but Wooyoung can’t lie and say he doesn’t like the way his friend always curls into him like this, finally letting up and pressing soft kisses against the shell of his ear. Wooyoung keeps up his own ministrations, scratching at his scalp with one hand and tracing circles into his back with the other, and arousal pools in his gut at the way San shivers and whimpers quietly every time he apparently does something right with his hands.

 _Seriously_ , Wooyoung thinks to himself, _what kind of kissing game_ requires _you to stop in order to win?_ As if he’d ever stop kissing San. Utterly ridiculous. Unimaginable. _Literally_ preposterous—

“Are you _kidding_ me, Wooyoung?” Hongjoong shrieks as soon as he steps into the kitchen, practically vibrating with anger, and the two of them spring apart. “Nothing in the kitchen! That’s, like, rule number one of the game!”

“Someone find Mingi again so we don’t have to listen to him anymore,” San mutters under his breath, and Wooyoung laughs when Hongjoong sets his water bottle down onto the counter and starts to chase after him. “We’re continuing this later!” He calls over his shoulder as he starts down the hall, and Wooyoung smirks.

“Next time will be your last, Sannie!”

Surprisingly enough, Jongho was the one to suggest playing the game, after watching Seonghwa nearly snap his neck trying to pull away from Wooyoung's pursed lips. Of course, he'd done it with the assumption that _he_ wouldn't be participating in such nonsense, only because—

“I'm the _maknae!_ ” He protests, hands up and palms facing upwards. “Aren't I supposed to be young and innocent?”

“Absolutely not,” they all say in unison, and Jongho drops his face into his hands.

“Also, you suggested it,” Yunho says, staring off into the distance like he’s still trying to piece his argument together. “So… doesn’t that mean you knew about it already? Which means you’ve probably participated in it?”

That gets him a few gasps of realization and a shrieking laugh from Wooyoung at the look of pure, unadulterated shock on Jongho’s face. “I’ve never played it!” The youngest boy says defensively. “My friends told me about it after they went to a party! And I’ve never been to a party in my life, which I’ve _told_ you guys—”

“You could totally be lying to our faces,” Wooyoung points out.

“That’s funny, coming from you,” says Hongjoong. “Who left their ramen supplies out and then lied about it for months, again?”

“Hey, now, that was a while ago! I’ve changed!” Wooyoung says placatingly. This time it’s his turn to raise his hands in surrender, and next to him, San laughs and tosses an arm around his shoulder, and then Wooyoung’s leaning into him and everyone looks away on instinct.

“I still don’t know what we’re talking about,” Seonghwa pipes up, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s chicken, and why would people play it at a party? Is it an eating contest?”

At this, everyone laughs—except for Mingi, who looks just as confused. “You’re the oldest, hyung,” Yeosang says in between giggles, “and yet you’re the most innocent.”

“Is chicken a… dirty game?” Seonghwa asks, looking mildly frightened now.

“Oh, boy,” Hongjoong mutters. “I’m not explaining it to him.”

“Why don’t you explain it, Jongho, since you’re apparently so _knowledgeable_ ,” Wooyoung says tauntingly, and Jongho sends him a murderous look.

So that’s how it begins. Hongjoong is exasperated when they call for a vote and everyone but him raises their hand in favor of playing. (“Even you, Seonghwa?” He says, disgruntled, when Seonghwa raises his hand slowly after the others. “I really don’t have a single ally here, do I?”

“Let me think for a moment, hyung,” Wooyoung says, tapping his chin in mock thought. “Hmm, no, I don’t think you do.” Hongjoong proceeds to slap him upside the head with more force than someone as small as him should probably have, and everyone laughs at Wooyoung as he cowers.)

The rules go up on the small board in the entryway that they normally use for schedules—and the rules are simple; nothing more than the gray area just beyond kissing, all parties must be consenting at the time, pulling away means you lose, no doing anything in the kitchen because that’s _weird_ —which makes it official, and as soon as Hongjoong says _we can start now_ , he grabs his backpack and practically runs out the door, saying something about going to the studio for a few hours. Mingi glances at all of them individually, biting his lip and fidgeting before he runs out too, and the rest of the members look at each other warily.

“I think I’m gonna go take a nap,” Yunho says after a moment.

Just to freak him out, Wooyoung says, “You’d better sleep with an eye open, huh?”

Yunho just turns bright red and turns around to go down the hall.

“Be nice, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa warns, but even he can’t look Wooyoung in the eye.

They get their first loss within the night, because, according to Mingi—“I just kissed him on the cheek, I swear!” is what he says when he and Hongjoong get back, guffawing when Hongjoong turns beet-red and covers his face with his sweater paws. “And then hyung was like, okay, I’m done, I can’t do this anymore. It was _so_ funny.”

“You lost because Mingi _kissed you on the cheek?_ ” Says Jongho, looking thoroughly aghast at the thought. “I thought we were stronger than this! Skinship is our middle name!”

“He isn’t telling you the whole story,” Hongjoong protests. “It wasn’t that! He—he just—”

In the end, Hongjoong ends up running off to his room, looking unfairly adorable in his oversized sweater. “Mingi,” San says with a giggle, “what did you do to hyung to make him like that?”

“Alright, alright,” Mingi concedes with a bright grin. “I just gave him a back hug and whispered in his ear for a little bit, and _then_ I kissed him on the cheek. And said some more stuff. That’s when hyung gave up.”

“I need to know what you said,” Jongho practically hisses, leaning in, and Mingi shakes his head with a smirk.

“No can do. I promised not to tell.”

Jongho glares up at the older boy and says, “If I have to pry it out of you by ripping you in half, I _will_.”

“Jesus Christ,” Wooyoung mumbles under his breath.

“I would’ve paid money to see that happen in real life,” San says to him conspiratorially, before frowning. “Not Jongho ripping Mingi in half, of course. I meant Hongjoong hyung and Mingi.”

“I would’ve paid money to do it to him,” Seonghwa mutters from the couch, and Yeosang, who has his head in the oldest boy’s lap as he scrolls through his phone, chokes on his own spit.

Yeosang is their proverbial dark horse.

Unfortunately, Wooyoung wasn’t there to see it because he was at practice, but according to San the next morning, Yeosang had crawled into Yunho’s lap the night before. “That seems innocuous enough, right?” He says with a grin as he tosses Wooyoung one of his own sweaters to wear, because Wooyoung is in San’s room more often than he probably should be, but that isn’t the current point.

“Hm, yeah,” Wooyoung agrees, pulling the sweater on and inhaling the scent of San’s body wash. “Yunho’s our cuddle magnet. It’s understandable.”

“Right. Except after a while Yeosang turns around and whispers something in his ear—”

“What’s with all the whispering,” Wooyoung mutters. “What a bunch of cowards.”

San snorts. “ _Listen_ , Wooyoungie. After he whispered into Yunho’s ear, he started nuzzling into his neck and Yunho just freaked out. Put his hands on Yeosang’s waist and just sat there like a statue before he gave up and made Yeosang pull away.” He pauses. “It was pretty hot. Yunho’s hands are so big.”

“Yeosang also has a small waist, so I’m not surprised,” says Wooyoung, and San nods emphatically with a look in his eyes that suggests he’s thinking about more than just how small Yeosang’s waist is. Wooyoung won't pry. He understands.

Their dancer also manages to get Jongho out—which Wooyoung is privy to this time around, but he can’t say Jongho’s animalistic screech when Yeosang fake-whines into his ear after a bit of manhandling is remotely sexy. Wooyoung’s almost scared Yeosang has a running chance at facing him, but then he walks in on Seonghwa crowding Yeosang up against the wall of the room he shares with Hongjoong, a hand on the back of his neck and the other up the back of his shirt, and Yeosang’s whimpering quietly as Seonghwa does whatever he’s doing, and Wooyoung has to stand out of sight for at _least_ five minutes before Yeosang finally pushes him away, gasping out an “I’m done. No more, no more.”

Seonghwa has a pleased smirk on his face as he says, “I think you enjoyed that a little too much.”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Yeosang whines, and Seonghwa giggles.

Wooyoung focuses on Seonghwa and San focuses on Mingi, a silent pact between them that neither of them discuss. Wooyoung completely ignores the nothing-frisky-in-the-kitchen rule in favor of wrapping his arms around Seonghwa from behind as the older boy washes dishes, giggling when he jumps and makes a soft noise of protest. “You could do this literally anywhere else,” he bemoans when Wooyoung leans in to press his lips to the back of his neck. “I just finished cleaning, Wooyoung.”

“Hyungie, that implies that you’re gonna make a mess if I continue, you know,” Wooyoung murmurs into the older boy’s ear, and the full-body shiver that induces from Seonghwa makes him laugh. “What is it, hyung? I thought you had a bit more self-control than this.”

“Don’t be so disrespectful,” Seonghwa hisses out between gritted teeth, tilting his head back when Wooyoung stands up as tall as he can to nuzzle into his neck. “I knew you’d be a devil at this game. Can’t you at least let me finish washing the dishes?”

“Nah,” Wooyoung murmurs. “Unless you wanna give up.”

Which leads to a ten minute long push-and-pull as Seonghwa stubbornly continues cleaning dishes and Wooyoung stubbornly continues his skinship, even going so far as to nip at the back of his neck, which earns him a small, strangled whine. Seonghwa finally ends up surrendering when he shuffles around in Wooyoung’s hold and he automatically leans in for a kiss, shoving the younger boy away with a shout, and Wooyoung nearly dies laughing. “Sorry, hyung. Is Hongjoong hyung the only one allowed to do that? Oh, or Yeosangie?” He says mockingly. The death glare Seonghwa could genuinely commit murder.

Yunho tells him about how San makes Mingi lose later. It includes a lot of blowing into the taller boy’s ear—“I mean, who knew he was _that_ sensitive?” Yunho says with a certain kind of gleam in his eyes that Wooyoung _won’t_ ask about—and a hand on his jean-clad thigh, which, apparently Mingi is sensitive _there_ too, and as much as he claims to be a hypersexual freak Wooyoung really didn’t need to know that—and boom. Mingi had pulled away with a yelp, running off with a blush on his face.

“That’s unfairly cute,” Wooyoung says with a pout. “ _And_ hot. Seonghwa hyung almost murdered me.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such an idiot,” Hongjoong mutters from the other side of the couch. Even in the dim light and without his glasses or contacts, Wooyoung can see their leader’s ears going red, and he assumes someone must’ve told him what remark made Seonghwa so angry in the first place.

But this all leads to The Final Battle, as Yeosang gleefully dubs it. Somewhere along the way, both Wooyoung and San had made some silent, secret pact to not go near each other, but with all the other members out, facing each other becomes inevitable.

“It’s because you’re, like, the whores of the group,” Jongho says helpfully.

“Jongho!” Seonghwa gasps. “Don’t say that word!”

“Am I wrong?” Jongho grumbles.

“I’m not a _whore_ ,” Wooyoung protests. “I’m just physically affectionate. That’s an unfair and derogatory stereotype.”

“Fine, I take it back,” Jongho sighs. “You’re only kind of a slut, hyung.”

“Well,” Wooyoung says as San and Mingi start to laugh, “I guess you aren’t wrong with that. Sannie, get over here.”

“Whoa, someone’s needy,” San teases, scrunching his nose up and giggling cutely when Wooyoung gives him a deadpan look. “Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

“I thought it was movie night,” Hongjoong protests, but it goes completely unanswered as San and Wooyoung lean into each other’s spaces.

“Gonna be honest with you, Sannie,” Wooyoung murmurs, reaching out to cup his friend’s cheek and inwardly cooing when he leans into the contact, eyebrows raised in question. “I think you should just give up now. I can be aggressive.”

San scoffs. “That isn’t daunting at all. Gonna give me all you can get, kitten?”

Wooyoung has to take a moment to process the pet name, cheeks heating up on instinct, and San snickers at him. Somewhere in the background, he hears Yeosang mumble, “Can they just make out and move on already?”, and Seonghwa hushes him.

“I don’t think pet names should be allowed,” Wooyoung breathes, and San smirks, leaning further into him until he’s crowding him up against the end of the couch, Yunho coughing and scooting away as far as possible for the two of them. 

“That wasn’t in the rules, Wooyoungie,” San murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss against the tip of his nose, and Wooyoung loses his breath, flushing all over. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so— _small_ , with San towering over him, pinning him to the cushions with that ridiculously intense stare he always saves for when he’s on stage. What the fuck. What the _fuck_ —

“Alright, stop that!” Hongjoong exclaims, cutting them off, and San jolts away from Wooyoung immediately. “We’re supposed to be having a wholesome family movie night. We’re watching _Mulan_ , for fuck’s sake! Do this later. San, sit next to Mingi. Wooyoung, you stay there.”

“Thanks, dad,” Wooyoung pipes up as San slinks away with a sigh, though his voice comes out way shakier than it should be. He spends most of the movie zoned out, wishing for San’s body heat and the way he’d kissed him like that. _If he keeps that up, I’m never backing out_ , he finds himself thinking, even as Seonghwa presses a palm to his cheeks after the movie finishes and squints at him knowingly, saying “You’re still burning up, Wooyoungie. All good?”

“Just peachy,” Wooyoung grumbles, swatting his hands away, and Seonghwa laughs.

Which leads them to the present.

“ _Ugh_ , do you really have to do that here?” Yunho groans, covering his eyes and stumbling away from Wooyoung’s bed, where he’s got San pinned down, face buried in his neck. “Don’t _wink_ at me when Wooyoung’s doing that, San! You two are disgusting. You know, I only came in here to ask Wooyoung if he knew where my choreography notebook went so I could go practice later, so it’s frankly offensive that you two are—”

“Oh my god,” Wooyoung groans as he pulls away, San shaking with laughter underneath him. “Stop ruining the mood, Yunho!”

“Well, you ruined my eyes!” Yunho says defensively, arms crossed over his chest and face red as he pointedly stares up at the ceiling. “I didn’t want to see that! At least lock the doors, please?”

“They only lock the doors when they’re getting loud, so it doesn’t help in the slightest,” Yeosang says helpfully as he pokes his head in, giving Wooyoung and San a cursory glance. “Yunho, let’s go to the practice room.”

“Alright,” Yunho grumbles. “I’ll find my notebook later.”

“Shut the door behind you, please!” San asks cutely, and Yunho complies with less force than Wooyoung expected from someone currently annoyed at them, but he supposes that’s how Yunho works. When he looks back down at San, something in his chest constricts at the way his eyes glitter, a little glassy as he smiles sweetly up at Wooyoung, and then his eyes travel down to see—

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, biting his lip guiltily. “I left a mark, Sannie. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” San says easily. “It’s not like it’s comeback season. I’ll just wear a scarf if I want to post a selfie. Now get back here.”

Wooyoung is all too glad to lean down once more, capturing San’s lips with his own and letting him lead with both of San’s hands on his waist. San is unfairly addictive in that odd, adrenaline-inducing way, but there’s absolutely no way Wooyoung’s ever going to be able to get enough of him and the way he touches like he couldn’t let go if he tried.

(He’s okay with that. It’s pretty hot.)

(They called the tie two weeks ago, of course. Hongjoong called the entire game off when Yeosang complained about Wooyoung sounding like a dying whale in front of Jongho. “This is getting to be too much,” Hongjoong hissed as Jongho burst out laughing and Seonghwa blushed. “You two are _always_ way too much. The game’s over.”

“Sorry, hyung,” San demurred, hanging his head, and Wooyoung bit his tongue to keep from making a stupid remark.

“You know,” Seonghwa had murmured to Hongjoong a little later, “I think they like each other. Calling off the game probably won’t work.”

“I’m aware,” Hongjoong replied tiredly, but secretly, he was sort of happy for the two. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t murder them the next time he walked in on them, of course.)

**Author's Note:**

> comments + kudos forever appreciated! hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/9thstellium)


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